Exorcist – Revelations
by Hane no Zaia
Summary: Sequel to Exorcist. Rating might change.
1. The Arrival

_Hello sequel._

_Disclaimer: I do not own D. Gray – Man. Pity._

**- o0o -**

**Asylum**

_**- The Arrival -**_

**- o0o -**

"_There is no god…"_

He lay immobilised on a tiled floor, coldness against his back. Above and on top of him was someone familiar, nuzzling the crook of his neck.

_"And miracles?" _

It was futile to resist, and even if he wanted to do so, he had little energy to spare for the task. In his exhaustion, words and coherent thoughts escaped him. Exhaustion caused his head to loll limply to one side, his eyes sliding shut.

"_What is and what is not a miracle is a question of personal belief, don't you think?"_

He found that he didn't think at all; that he couldn't. The previous blow to his head had rattled his brains, disabling most of his senses along with the capability of rational thought.

_"The human psyche is a wonderful thing…"_ the voice told him, its owner's breath hot against his throat. _"So much potential, so often wasted on the mundane…"_

Potential?

_"God created man in his own image, they say, even though it was truly man that created God, carrying all the flaws imposed upon him by those who were supposedly created in his image… Jealous, selfish… supposedly merciful and loving and all, yet so vengeful…"_ the voice went on. "'_Thou shall hath no other gods'_ _or something, wasn't it?_"

His eyebrow furrowed, but there were still no words available to him; or perhaps the words themselves were available. Perhaps it was just the ability to string together something coherent and meaningful that was lacking on his part?

_"In the end, what are demons?"_ the voice asked him. _"If malevolent spirits are demons, are benevolent ones angels?"_

The tiled floor was cold and hard against his back._ Are they?_

_"Faith,"_ the other spoke again. _"A powerful weapon, seeing that believing in something makes it stronger…"_

_Weapon?_

_"Humans – whether wittingly or unwittingly – created their own gods…"_ the voice told him, knowingly. _"Their belief gave birth to entities, entities that gradually grew stronger or weakened… depending on the amount of faith which was put into them…"_

_"After all, without believers – without __worshippers__ – Gods cannot exist…"_

He found himself struggling to open his eyes, which proved quite a task as his eyelids felt like lead.

"_To them, faith is sustenance…"_ the voice told him. _"And…"_

He forced his eyes open, looking up at the somewhat blurry outline of Tyki Mikk. The latter looked down upon him, amber-coloured eyes glimmering.

_"What do you think happened to the old gods?"_

He snapped his eyes back open – for real, this time around – and was only just able to refrain from making any sound other than a muted gasp as awareness returned to him.

Then, hearing his name being called, his head snapped up in attention, his eyes zeroing in on the blond individual located in the driver's seat of the still-moving car, the aforementioned watching him through the rear-view mirror; a highly familiar situation, as of late.

"You dozed off for a bit," Bak Chan offered up as an explanation. "And I didn't feel like waking you."

Allen initially said nothing, remaining somewhat slumped in his seat whilst slightly supported by the seatbelt. Then, he finally tilted his head to get a better look at the twilight-stained landscapes flashing by outside the car window. "How long?" he asked quietly.

"Twenty minutes," the other readily admitted. "But you can have another hour if you want until we get to Spring City and all…"

Allen found himself snorting at this, sitting up a bit straighter before slouching down again, gloved fingertips massaging his aching head.

"There is no need to be nervous," Bak said, deliberately misunderstanding the cause of his exasperation. "If anything, then the others will be far more nervous about meeting you…"

Allen paused briefly in his ministrations, levelling the man with a pointed look. He did not comment though, knowing well that such a thing would have been pointless as the other was positively immune to his occasional glares and occasionally snide comments by that point, seeing to the fact that they had spent a fair bit of time together already, both during the insanely long transatlantic flight and in the time that had followed it. However, the other's presence was rarely intrusive; keeping him company, but definitely possessing a keen ability to determine whether or not to leave him some amount of space. Then again, since his occasional mood swings had a nasty tendency of manifesting in the shape of telekinesis, the habit of leaving him some amount of space proved quite wise indeed.

"How many?" he finally asked, feeling his headache gradually subside.

"Just four people," Bak responded, by no means deterred by his prolonged silence. "And you've met Wong before," he went on, slowing down with the intention of turning left at the upcoming intersection. "He greeted us back at the airport."

Allen did recall the ageing old man of remarkable statue – all grey hair and beard – greeting his ever-benevolent host with a great deal of relief and an equal amount of disapproval, much like an old mother greeting her prodigal and reckless offspring upon the time their return. "Are you sure that's wise?"

"He's getting old, but he's fairly experienced." Turning left, Bak's eyes once again came to rest upon him, briefly. "And he worries."

Allen, detecting an underlying meaning in the other's tone, lifted his head slightly. "Who is he?" he finally asked. "Other than your makeshift parent?"

The other's response consisted of an amused snort. "Makeshift parent?" Bak repeated somewhat sceptically. "Well, in a manner of speaking. Resident worrywart is another way of putting it," he went on to claim, a sense of nostalgia tainting his voice. "Given time, I'm sure that he'll end up adopting you as well, since you're so reckless…"

_Reckless?_

After sending another pointed glare off in the other's direction, he returned to looking out the window again and at the passing landscapes. Then, after deeming them quite tedious and seemingly never-ending, he closed his eyes anew.

**- o0o -**

A slight knock on the window snapped him back into a state of reasonable wakefulness, and soon thereafter, the car door was opened. "We're here," Bak informed him, opening the door a bit further and admitting a blast of cool night air whilst he was at it, though the latter was probably entirely unintentional. "Are you coming or not?"

What an utterly pointless question.

He unclasped the seatbelt without a word, and as Bak moved aside, he stepped out of the car and onto the dirt, idly taking in his surroundings. The latter just happened to be what could very well be assumed to be some type of parking lot, albeit not a very big and at the time not a very used one, as they were the only ones there. Then again, as it was practically completely dark outside already, he supposed there ought to be some type of reason for that. "Going where?" he finally asked.

The other pointed off into the dark, towards what he without much difficulty came to determine as a road running through the woods, which proved puzzling to the very least.

"Is it far?" he asked, slamming the door shut behind himself.

"Not really," Bak responded, face somewhat illuminated as he looked down at the display of his phone. "Besides, there are people waiting up ahead."

"Your people," Allen said, more as a statement than as a question.

"My people," Bak affirmed, pulling out a small flashlight.

They walked in silence, each of them to their own thoughts up until they happened upon what was seemingly the main gate, consisting of an archway which towered over them. From it, someone had hung a banderol with a greeting in which they were welcomed and told that apparently, the fear was real. "Is that the…?" Allen began, letting the rest of his question remain unspoken as it was already quite apparent in to what he was referring.

"Yes," Bak affirmed, hurrying his steps along. "Quite tasteless, I think."

Casting a sideways glance at the partially illuminated wall beside them and at the instances of graffiti covering it, Allen honestly could not help but read it. "_Are you scared yet_, huh?"

**- o0o -**

"_Are you scared yet, Allen?"_

**- o0o -**

_Scared?_

He snorted at the mere notion of it, earning himself looks from the rest of the group and particularly from Bak's minder – Han Wong or whoever he was – whose opinion of him was by no means very difficult to determine, as it showed quite clearly in the way that the other regarded him. Then again, it wasn't as though Allen held a grudge; he understood very well the reason as to why the other was not overly fond of him and particularly not very fond of him spending time in Bak's company. It was understandable; sensible even. If anything, then Bak was the one lacking in self-preservation for insisting that Allen did not leave and continue off on his own, because apparently the other was under the keen impression that he would end up doing something utterly reckless and possibly fatal, or get lost and remain that way. If anything, Bak ought to mind his own business on that point, seeing that the other got lost just as easily if not even more easily, which was quite an accomplishment as Allen himself did not possess more than the slightest shred of a sense of direction.

Luckily though, in regards to the latter, he had other senses to rely on, and usually someone to ask in case he could not find his way on his own. Then again, just as with the living, the dead occasionally proved unreliable and outright devious even. Besides, he rarely made a habit of it anymore.

Nowadays, he lived his life mostly as he pleased, and quite passively at that. In the months that had passed since the events back on the isles, he really hadn't done much besides leaving the country and staying back at whichever motel room they were currently living in, whenever Bak did not drag him out to experience things like shopping malls and random tourist attractions. The latter he could bear – however reluctantly – but the former was something that he would rather not experience again if he could avoid it. The mere thought of it made him shudder.

"Are you cold?"

He wasn't, but he still pulled his coat more tightly around himself, lifting his head slightly to stare up at the two-storey red-brick building into which they – namely Bak and the others – intended to venture as soon as they had finished checking their equipment. He stared up at it, and in a way, it stared back at him. Multiple eyes had already levelled upon him from the moment that he had entered the grounds, and there were even more of them now. Surprisingly, he had only seen glimpses of them and mostly out of the corner of his eye; if anything, they seemed to vanish the moment that he shifted his attention towards them. "It's not cold," he finally responded, knowing that Bak would pry if not provided with a proper response. "I merely recalled something unpleasant."

Initially, Bak looked concerned at this, but then he cracked a smile. "I take it that you're still not over the mall incident?"

This earned a few giggles, and Allen supposed that he should let them laugh. In a way, he had a distinct feeling that they wouldn't be laughing in the investigation to come, and instead tore his eyes from the building and directed his attention back to Bak, who had continued his briefing and was currently speaking of the underground tunnel system which apparently connected quite a few of the buildings. The latter had also procured a map of them from the bored-looking security guy who was supposedly there to oversee the procedures, but mostly just because the procedures called for it and because he was getting paid for it, which truth to be told wasn't a bad reason.

As far as money and earning it was concerned, Allen found that he could very much relate. Then again, as he was currently freeloading off of a man who seemingly had not only a whole lot of time to waste but also a whole lot of money to spend, perhaps he really ought to think a bit more about his own future.

Admittedly, it wasn't like he had ever honestly thought that he would be able to get a reasonably normal job and much less keep it for more than a couple of months at the most, and he lacked the education necessary to do most things anyway as he had dropped out of school and had no real plans of resuming his education in the near future. All in all, he supposed that it was because he now reasoned that life was way too short to waste upon earning grades and degrees to apply for jobs that he probably wouldn't be able to keep anyway, both due to his mental state and due to the paranormal still being drawn towards him.

Regular ghosts following him around had become something of a novelty nowadays though, as few of them tended to stick around for very long. If anything, then they were drawn towards his spiritual energy, and if anything, a great deal of them were repelled by the imprint that still very much remained, like a scar which – though it had certainly grown fainter during his time abroad – seemed to have no intention of disappearing completely, remaining there as an eternal link to the past.

Times had passed and things had changed, and he could never go back, but…

Looking up at the building as he was now – stricken by a sense of foreboding – he could not help but wonder.

**- o0o -**

"_Are you scared yet, Allen?"_

**- o0o -**


	2. Those Meant to Fear

_Hello new chapter._

**- o0o -**

**Asylum**

_**- Those Meant to Fear -**_

**- o0o -**

Pennhurst State School and Hospital – formerly the _Eastern Pennsylvania State Institution for the Feeble-Minded and Epileptic_ – was located in the state of Pennsylvania, near the border between the counties of Chester and Montgomery. Closing on December 9th 1987 due to various scandals coming to light, it had been an institution for those deemed in need of specialised care, though it had ultimately become something akin to a dumping ground for individuals unwanted or unneeded by society, or merely for those who failed to live up to the standards of supposedly normal human beings at the time.

Its initial construction history dating all the way back to the very beginning of the 1900s, it had only grown in size and in the number of patients it hosted up until it closed down, and from what had been brought up in the files that Bak had presented him with, it had come to host quite a bit of human suffering as well. Some – its current managers included – even claimed that a whole lot of the things that had taken place over the years lingered; that it was haunted. Allen – though only partially privy to the history of the place – could very well agree that such was probably the case, or at least to some extent, seeing that such events rarely went by without leaving some type of scar upon their immediate surroundings. However, partially renovating and reopening some part of it as some type of haunted attraction was – at least in his humble opinion – somewhat insensitive. Then again, he supposed that the dead probably wouldn't be faring any worse anyhow, as a great deal of them had probably suffered their worst whilst they were still alive.

Pennhurst. The first patient arrived on November 23rd 1908. Four years later, the institution was already overcrowded, and according to some it had allegedly been pressured to admit others as well; criminals, immigrants, orphans. Allen did not know whether it was true or not, and he did not particularly care either. Something that he did know was that they had a system of physical and mental classification, determining its residents to be either epileptic or healthy, imbecile or insane, and even classified in accordance to the state of their teeth.

All in all – or at least in hindsight – it had hardly been a place to cure anyone. Regardless of original intentions and activities in relation to those, and regardless of whether those admitted were even in need of receiving such care to begin with, Allen sincerely doubted that any of them got any better solely from the experience. Truthfully, the mere thought of it made him quite ill, and particularly as quite a few of them were never discharged to begin with, withering away gradually or perishing suddenly. Someone – presumably Bak – had mentioned in passing that at least half of those admitted didn't make it. Allen did not know whether it was true or not, but all in all, he supposed that it did not matter all that much either; they were dead after all, and in some cases, some were better off dead than they had been when they were alive.

For those locked up for whichever reasons, there were neglect, overcrowding, abuse, and even starvation. Subjected to some or even a mixture of all of those conditions, could one really expect anyone to be reformed from whichever flaws that they may or may not have possessed? Even with good intentions and the honest goodwill in the people who had worked there, a lack of funds had ensured overcrowding and overcrowding had led to neglect. Even now, it was a precarious blend; a spiral heading downwards, delving deeper into what could possibly be viewed as a textbook case of human depravity, and as an institution, it was hardly unique. Plenty of similar institutions – if not nearly all of them – had all had their share of it. As such, Pennhurst was neither the exception nor particularly unique; truthfully, it was but one of many, and at a quite significant scale at that. It was all quite sickening, truly.

With finely measured steps, he descended the case of stairs, treading behind Rikei, a member of Bak's so called study group – or the PR-unit as they had apparently named themselves officially, which apparently stood for something along the lines of _the Paranormal Research Unit_ or something to the like. All in all, Allen was not all too sure about the details as he had not bothered to delve all too deeply into them, very much like he had not bothered taking on the lead when the group had split into smaller operating units for the mere sake of getting more things done than they would have been able to, had they all stayed together.

For whichever reason – for the mere kicks of it, possibly – the pairs had been decided through them pulling a folded piece of paper from a jar, whereas his and this Rikei's proved to be a pair, just as Wong and Shifu and Bak and Rohfa. All in all, though he sincerely doubted that all that many – if any – of them were perfectly happy and at ease with these arrangements, he found that he still preferred the somewhat messy-haired and mildly temperamental Rikei over either Wong – who evidently didn't like or trust him very much at the moment – or Rohfa, the latter of whom was a shy girl with pigtails, glasses and what appeared to be a budding crush on him. If anything, then he supposed that he ought to blame the latter on Bak, as the latter had obviously failed to keep his mouth shut in regards to a few of his earlier escapades with the paranormal. As for the last one, this Shifu guy appeared far more level-headed and collected than the rest of them, a level-headedness which certainly wasn't a bad thing but was probably best invested in preventing Bak from doing something stupid, as Allen was under the distinct impression that the latter was with all due likelihood perfectly capable of doing so, in the name of science if anything else.

On second thought, he was practically surrounded by people who referred to themselves as scientists or at least pseudo scientists of some sort, so pretty much everything was to be expected. However, since they were scientists and all, they had brought a fair deal of equipment with them, some of which even he could not identify. Then again – having lived the life that he had – it wasn't as though he had ever had any need of such equipment as he had never really had any need to prove himself; to prove anything to anyone, as the people who became his clients were usually more interested in him solving their ghostly problems for them than for him to present them with some sort of scientific evidence. Then again…

"Hey, you."

However reluctantly, he shifted his attention back to Rikei who stood there with a protective mask – an air-filtering half mask, or something to the like – and a helmet with a small flashlight attached to it, which ray was now directed at him and illuminating the parts of his face that weren't obscured either by the mask or by the hood, which he had yet to lower and didn't really feel like removing when it all came down to it either.

"Can you walk in front of me instead of lurking behind me like that? It's creepy…"

Hoh.

"How old are you anyway? You don't look old enough for college…"

He said nothing, walking past the other whilst pulling out the flashlight that he had been loaned, turning it on. "You talk too much," he finally announced, walking ahead now, allowing the ray of the flashlight to illuminate his path as the quietly fuming Rikei scrambled to catch up, carrying the equipment with him.

"Okay, look here," the latter said, catching up to him with some amount of difficulty and picking up their pace to keep up with him. "I seriously don't get what Bak sees in you, and I can't say that I've seen any particular proof of your skill in handling the paranormal, so I'll just say this straight up: You have a terrible personality and I don't like you."

Hoh?

That actually caused him to pause briefly in his step and to snicker quietly, though it sounded somewhat strange with the mask that he was wearing.

"Hey!"

He stopped snickering and turned partially, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "The feeling's mutual," he finally said, a certain degree of wryness to his voice. "Besides, I don't particularly care about what other people think of me and my twisted personality."

As a matter of fact, he had never particularly cared all that much about the vast majority of his fellow human beings. Besides, in their eyes, he had probably been a hopeless case to begin with. Then again…

Having begun walking again, he came to a sudden stop and thrust out his hand, stopping his decidedly displeased companion from advancing any further and silencing the other's protests with a verbal command. "Quiet."

Out of the corner of his eye, the other shifted slightly, looking decidedly uncomfortable and a bit spooked, eyes searching their surroundings repeatedly and seemingly coming up with nothing. Then, despite the scorn that Allen had received earlier, the other stepped closer to him, likely acting more out of instinct than out of any conscious thought, believing that it would somehow be safer, despite it all.

Then came a small whisper, just as he closed his eyes to attempt to focus. "Is there something out there?"

It was a stupid question, because there was always something out there. The only difference lay in the nature of what was out there, if they were natural or supernatural, living, departed or some type of entity. After all, humans themselves were hardly harmless, and in comparison, most ghosts seemed as harmless as newborn kittens. Admittedly, there were – as he himself had experienced – obviously entities that were far more powerful and far more dangerous than they initially seemed, and judging from what had just tripped his senses, there was a distinct possibility that they were on the verge of running into something quite nasty.

He opened his eyes, and they nearly immediately levelled upon the darkness that lay beyond the column of light from his flashlight. "Is your camera still running?"

"Huh?"

"Is your camera running?" he repeated, and a startled Rikei seemed to remember only then about the camera he had been clutching up until that point and fumbled with it as he attempted to direct it towards the direction in which Allen was facing.

"Yeah, it's running," Rikei uttered somewhat breathlessly, looking indecisive in regards to whether he ought to be scared out of his wits or excited. "What more should I-…?"

It was another stupid question; all in all, Allen appeared to be the recipient of quite a few of those as of late.

"Get back," he offered the other simply, pulling slightly at his mask, his eyes never leaving the darkness that lay beyond. "The way we entered is clear, so put some distance between us."

"Why?" the other automatically questioned, and Allen found himself resisting making an eye roll.

"Because pieces of equipment might end up broken otherwise."

For all that he had been sticking close to him mere moments before, Rikei surely wasted no time in stepping back and thereby away from whichever entity Allen knew himself to be staring at, despite the fact that there were still no distinguishable features to speak of. Had he been in possession of any of those fancy pieces of equipment seemingly favoured by those a bit less in tune with the supernatural then he could possibly have discerned it, however, with his sense being the way they were, using some type of tools would probably just end up hampering him. Then again…

He took a step forward, bringing his flashlight along and pointing it directly where he knew there to be something and something extremely negative at that, though he had not yet determined just what he was up against this time around. After all, though it felt decidedly negative to him, it did not seem to harbour any sinister intentions as far as he was able to sense at any rate.

Taking another step forward, the thing at the end of the underground corridor finally became clearer to him.

Before him was an inhuman blob of some sort – simply crowding the tunnel – and it was not even staring him down or even eyeing him hungrily or angrily or anything, as there were no eyes to speak of, nor any discernible humanoid, mammal or reptile features to speak of. Ultimately, the shape of it – as he now came to view it – looked remarkably much like a crossing between a slime monster and a giant jellyfish, neither of which was particularly appealing as far as Allen himself was concerned.

Unable to help himself, he wrinkled his nose in disgust before forcing the vehement feelings of revulsion aside, focusing on the task at hand. Albeit slowly, the creature – whatever it was – was moving closer, so he readied him for the seemingly inevitable confrontation. However, it – whatever it was – did not seem all that dangerous, and it certainly wasn't demonic in nature. Then again, it wasn't as though it was a human spirit either as far as he could tell; rather than a spirit, it was more of a strange… blob?

Behind him, he heard Rikei give rise to a slight hiss. "What is _that_?!"

Oh, so he was seeing it _now_, was he?

Allen straightened up from where he had moved into position, relaxing his posture ever so slightly. "It's a manifestation," he responded, suddenly certain and no longer as wary. "Neither quite human nor quite demonic in nature."

Swiftly coming to a decision in regards to his next course of action, he took a step forward, followed by another, followed by yet another. Then – when they were less than a metre apart - he came to a stop, looking up at the thing as it practically towered over him now. "Well, this is new…"

"New?! What the Hell is that?!" Rikei sputtered, voice echoing between the walls.

"You're loud. Be quiet."

"Hah?"

"Calm down," Allen offered him simply, remaining where he was, with his eyes on the thing in front of him. "If you don't, it might try to latch onto you."

Truth to be told, Allen didn't actually think it would happen, seeing that there ought to be a fair number of more attractive targets. Then again, perhaps Rikei along with the others – barring Bak and probably also that old guy – were actually really attractive targets seeing that they seemed to have either received very little training or were just not putting it to good use. After all, their emotions seemed to be all over the place, which was probably the reason as to why the Blob – a temporary name, yes, for the sake of convenience as he currently didn't know how else to refer to it – had turned up. Then again, being neither demonic nor human in nature, it was debatable whether or not it actually possessed anything that could be viewed as intelligence; if Allen's initial readings were correct then it was drawn to strong feelings and especially strong negative feelings at that. Then again…

He now stood before it, likely blocking its intended route, and now it had stilled for the most part, towering over him and seemingly looking down upon him even though there were no eyes or anything else for that matter. Then, perhaps because he had possessed the audacity to consider it however briefly, the shape changed slightly and the creature opened its forming mouth soundlessly whilst the rest of its features began taking shape, morphing into something that could with a bit of imagination be assumed to be a human, albeit a twisted caricature of one. "You…"

"Hey you! What the heck are you trying to-…?!"

"Rikei." Allen still did not tear his eyes from the face that was now in front of him, hollow eye sockets and all. "Seriously. Calm. The. Fuck. Down."

"Hah?"

"I'm currently in the middle of trying to communicate with an entity," Allen said, barely resisting the sudden urge to snap at him. "So either do as I say or I'll step aside and let Blob-…" – He made a slight gesture towards the aforementioned. – "...Get past me, since he really isn't after me as much as he's after you."

"Why's he after me?!"

Again, the other was asking stupid questions.

"That's a good question actually." Allen turned his attention back to the aforementioned blob. "I do have a nice theory about that actually, unless you've got anything to add?"

The blob – not so much of a blob anymore, so Allen thought it needed a new name – opened its mouth again, but again, there was no sound.

"You're too emotional," Allen said, remaining where he was. "This… golem was made from emotional residue. He's not a human ghost or a demon or anything like that; he doesn't have a proper soul as far as I can tell, but he does possess a rudimentary awareness… which compels him to seek out things that he perceives as similar to himself…"

"Hah?" he heard Rikei stutter from a bit of a distance. "I've never heard of-…"

"Actually…" Allen said, cutting him off and putting his hand out slightly to prevent the golem from advancing any further. "This is my first time seeing something like this."

It was his first time, and quite a novel experience at that since he didn't feel like he was in any greater deal of danger than usual. Then again – as he had learnt from experience – appearances and first impressions could definitely be misleading.

Behind him, he heard Rikei give rise to a surprised sound that was muffled slightly by the mask he was wearing. For a brief moment, Allen considered ignoring it, but then he snapped his head up and turned to look, the hair on the back of his neck already standing on end as he took in the massive shadow person standing there, hovering just over the other's shoulder. Crap.

More out of instinct than out of anything else, he reached into his pocket. "Rikei…" he began, willing himself to remain calm even as he simultaneously sensed how the golem behind him had begun moving about. "Code red. Duck."

Surprisingly, the other – possibly having had an inkling as to what now stood behind him – obliged nearly immediately, ducking down and protecting the camera equipment whilst he was at it as Allen, having mostly unscrewed the cork of the tiny bottle of Holy Water he'd had in his pocket, flung the aforementioned item off in their approximate direction, aiming for a space on the wall that lay just ahead of them.

Once the small bottle had broken upon impact and splattered its contents about, a slight sizzling sound was heard, though it swiftly drowned in the hissing sound that followed, the latter of which gradually morphed into something akin to a growl.

A couple of years prior, the latter would probably have stirred him a bit. Now however – made cynical due to all the crap that he had been through in his life – he found that he barely twitched at the sight of it, and he only took a step towards it when Rikei continued to cower down on the floor – probably with a bit of water splashed across his back – and then he rapidly more steps towards the pair, undeterred as the creature once again hissed at him. He stopped only once he was within the range of one metre, looking up at it but staring it down all the same, narrowing his eyes slightly at it. _"Leave."_

Again, it growled at him, attempting to make itself look bigger and more dangerous than it really was, but evidently, he wasn't fooled. If anything, then it was small fry compared to stuff that he had encountered years prior, but that in itself did not make it harmless, and especially not to other people, who could very well fall either under its influence or be outright possessed when it all came down to it. If one allowed them to do so, that is.

Allen continued glaring up at it, not even flinching in the least when it attempted to extend its influence and instil a sense of terror in them. "Rikei, stop freaking out," he snapped, without shifting his attention in the least. "Your fear is making it stronger."

And this, this is why he generally preferred working alone – or not at all, if such an option was available.

"No really," he said, directing himself back to the entity. "_Scram._ I don't feel like dealing with you bloody entities every goddamned time that I step out onto the goddamned street, and I don't bloody care if I seem awfully tasty from a distance; attempt to feed upon me and I will end you. Attack me, and I'll retaliate, and the same goes if you attack any other humans that I associate with."

Again, it hissed at him, and the shadows grew and fluctuated in response, both upset and wavering as Allen – without taking his eyes away from it – dropped his flashlight onto the still cowering Rikei's shoulder to startle the latter back into action and to hopefully implant the idea in the other's head that it would be just marvellous if the other would move over just a bit. Rikei became more motivated about it when their surroundings became drowned in a flurry of different sounds, knocking and scratching sounds and footsteps, and he scrambled away from them whilst at the same time seemingly retaining some sensibility – or curious foolishness, perhaps, along with a somewhat lacking sense of self-preservation – as the other had scrambled away only to point the camera back at them, seemingly intent on getting the whole thing recorded. Seriously – scientists.

Then again, Allen supposed that they were better than the more flimsy type of mediums that he had come into brief contact with following his arrival in the states. Though on the other hand, the aforementioned mediums probably hadn't enjoyed the exchange a whole lot either.

Then, somewhat expectedly on Allen's part, there was a slight stinging sensation on the side of his neck – like a bug bite, almost – and soon thereafter he experienced the familiar sensation of a few droplets of blood running down it, emerging from the shallow cut that the entity had just inflicted; as a warning perhaps, or as a test. In either case, he wasn't having any of it.

Pulling off one of his gloves, he lifted his now bare hand to map out the injury with his fingertips to gauge its seriousness, confirming then what he had already anticipated; though it bled, it wasn't much more than a scratch, but since it did bleed he knew that he would have to patch it up fairly quickly to minimise the risk of it being contaminated.

After all, they wearing the masks down there for a reason; said reason was contamination, including asbestos and probably even some type of mould as well. And – truth to be told – he was probably more wary about those than about the supernatural, whether it was rational to feel that way or not.

"You shouldn't have done that," he finally said, his voice getting sharper as he addressed the entity anew. "Not if you knew what I did to the last demon that did that to me."

**- o0o -**

"_Are you scared yet, Allen?"_

**- o0o -**

"_Scared?"_

**- o0o -**

"_Me?"_

**- o0o -**

"_Of what?"_

**- o0o -**

"_If anything, they ought to be scared of me."_

**- o0o -**


	3. A Call

_Hello, update._

**- o0o -**

**Asylum**

_**- A Call -**_

**- o0o -**

Most people didn't make a habit out of following their dreams, but Lavi Bookman wasn't like most people. Lavi Bookman wasn't like most people, and the dream that he had had just a short while ago certainly hadn't been a perfectly ordinary one, and had him ordering flight tickets to Edinburgh whilst having breakfast, before throwing his most important and useful personal possessions into a bag whilst thinking hard about what kind of excuses he was going to have to make.

Thankfully, his brain had proved surprisingly creative in aiding him on this particular endeavour, and had soon provided him with something that he could work with. Thus, he had brought out his smart phone and swiftly located Komui's number, pressing call and turning in his swivel chair until the line connected – which took a while but was to be expected, considering the state that Komui's office had been the last time that he had seen it.

Thus, after having a cheerful conversation with the obviously sleep-deprived man in question, he had relayed a brief and rather vague reason for taking off, offhandedly promising to buy the other some souvenirs and whatnot before hanging up, as he had at that point also finished writing a note featuring a somewhat more honest excuse to the old man.

All in all, the actual process of leaving England had gone off virtually without a hitch.

Scotland itself – or rather, its weather – had been another question altogether though, with a seemingly never-ending flood of heavy rain greeting him upon the time of his arrival and continuing with varying degrees of intensity throughout the following couple of days, days that he had promptly decided to spend back at his hotel room, not so much because he was afraid of getting his feet wet, but rather because he could spend the time getting into contact with people and on browsing through the pieces of information that they either sent him directly or through the sources to which they had directed him.

All in all, the last couple of days had been very educational, but they had brought about a certain degree of restlessness that could only be cured by some type of activity, which in his case consisted of him wandering off in direction of the location that had been featured in the most peculiar dream – the one that had set him off on this grand adventure of his in the first place – once the rain had ceased.

The skies were still dark and overcast as he made his way to Greyfriars Kirkyard. Once he made it to the gates, he pulled off his eye patch, steeling himself upon entering, knowing well what he could possibly expect to see.

Following a trail that was now plainly visible to him, he found himself standing before the headstone bearing the familiar name, and marking the spot where not one but at least three people bearing the aforementioned name had been buried at some point as far as he had been able to discern through his own research.

Crouching down, he reached out towards the headstone, tracing the inscription with his fingertips; tracing and retracing the words – the name – as though he actually needed to confirm what he was seeing through the sense of touch. Then again, he supposed that either could be viewed as unreliable. After all, it took so very little to screw with people's perceptions, be it with drugs, with physical and psychological torment or with extrasensory abilities.

Recalling the dream, he traced and retraced the inscription a number of times. Initially, he had hoped for some type of epiphany, but having received none, he finally withdrew his hand and concluded that the name carved into the stone was indeed the same as in his dream.

Allen Walker. If that proved a mere coincidence, Lavi would most certainly have been prepared to eat his own headband.

Then again, as he had recently managed to unearth through his contacts and determined digging, it did make sense that the Allen Walker that he knew – well, kind of knew – would carry the name, seeing that it had been an assumed one. Curiously enough though, there had been two others, both of whom had been buried in the grave before him.

As far as the namesakes were concerned though, information had proved scarce, consisting mainly of small hints that had up until then laid hidden away in archives, either lost or forgotten beneath piles of paperwork or included in files that were jealously guarded by mind-your-own-business bureaucrats.

Allen Walker himself – well, the living breathing one at any rate – was another matter altogether though.

The latest thing that Lavi had heard, Bak Chan had arranged for the other's trip for the States, which Lavi himself thought had probably been a great idea, as the younger teen would no doubt have been harassed even more by the Order if he had stayed on this side of the pond. Admittedly, the harassing the latter would no doubt have been a foolish thing to do, since whether it was in his own best interest or not, Allen Walker had a bit of a stubborn streak and generally seemed to have a tendency to do the exact opposite of what others wanted.

As far the latter was concerned, Lavi found that he could very much relate. Besides, he obviously held his doubts about the supposed wisdom in harassing someone who was clearly unwilling to join any group whatsoever and would be far more likely to retaliate than submit if somehow press ganged into it, as had already been made evident judging from moderately recent events.

Admittedly, they still did not know all the details of the events that had taken place, as despite their earnest efforts, they hadn't made it to the scene in time, and had only arrived to deal with the aftermath.

Said aftermath had included locating an inflatable boat set adrift in the North Sea, picking up Timothy Hearst – unharmed and looking surprisingly healthy for someone who had recently awoken from a coma and been through at least one major traumatic experience following the aforementioned awakening – along with a mildly concussed Allen Walker, who despite suffering from both a case of obvious exhaustion and a head injury had also been doing surprisingly well, all things considered.

All in all, Lavi's attempts – and later also those of others – to debrief them both had proved futile. This had partially been due to a distinct lack of cooperation on the part of the subjects, but also greatly due to interference from a third party, consisting of Bak Chan and the man's seemingly influential contacts.

Having seemingly realised that going along with Bak Chan's whims would with all due likelihood prove the most advantageous to him, Allen Walker had acted and reacted accordingly. If not, then Lavi himself seriously doubted that Allen would have tolerated being wrapped up in blankets and being fussed over in general whilst surveying his surroundings; Kanda's back in particular had endured a particularly piercing stare before Allen had turned his attention to the phone that had suddenly appeared in his grasp, staring down at the display from the looks of it but not really doing anything.

Had this situation not featured a fussing Bak Chan, then the aforementioned phone would no doubt have been confiscated and picked apart for possible evidence at the first viable opportunity, by Lavi himself if by no one else.

However, with Bak obviously having assigned himself as Allen Walker's personal guardian, such actions had by no means been viable under the man's watch or even afterwards, as the latter was by no means beyond throwing his weight or the weight of his actual family name around if it meant getting things done his way.

Allen had most certainly realised this and had as such made the decision to stick close, and to tolerate the man's fussing, and had even – to Lavi's mute shock at the time – briefly surrendered the phone to the man for the latter to use its flashlight function to once again check the state of his pupils.

Already back then, Lavi had had an inkling of just what would go down eventually, so he really hadn't been all that surprised when learning of the fact that Allen Walker had picked the third option; to be spirited away from the country and thus away from the eyes of the Order by someone who had at least at the time been respected enough to get away with the act. After all, at the time, a few quite influential people within the Order itself had expressed their interest in having Allen Walker's premature emancipation overruled; in gaining custody of him using whichever means necessary.

Bak Chan – among others – had obviously seen the looming threat along with the potential catastrophe that it had all the potential of becoming. Bak had foreseen it, and had moved in to avert it, calling in favours and applying pressure, and – perhaps most importantly – had managed to track down the wayward teenager himself and managed to get the latter to agree to travel with him.

Then again, resourceful as he apparently was, the man also had the seeming advantage of being the only person – besides the still missing Tyki Mikk – who had managed to acquire the teenager's reluctant respect, and with Bak being Bak, Allen was either intending on taking advantage of the other's kindness for all that it was worth or on staying within the man's sights for a while; probably because it proved the most beneficial for him in the longer term. Then again…

Then again, Allen's motives for leaving were probably largely irrelevant as far as the greater picture was concerned – or were they? In either case, it was-…

"Oy."

He didn't startle, even though he had been somewhat caught by surprise, having been too caught up in his thoughts to notice the recent arrival outside the gates, turning to face them. "Yu? What a pleasant surpri-…"

"Cut the crap," the aforementioned snapped, disdain showing even from afar.

"Really Yu," Lavi commented, remaining where he was even as the other stalked towards him, grabbed him by the arm and began dragging him out towards the street. "You came all this way just to-…?"

The other paused in his step, and he paused along with it, struck by a sudden sense of foreboding, which in turn had him cut himself short and actually made him physically tear himself loose, and to step back and away from the other. "Yu… what's going on?"

The grim look adorning the other's features relayed some part of it. The swift movement followed by the fist to his gut and the darkness that followed relayed the rest of it.

**- o0o -**

Again, Allen found himself in the backseat of a moving car headed who-knows-where, and unfortunately for him, he wasn't alone either. Instead, he shared it with bunch of equipment along with a furiously blushing Rohfa, whilst Bak sat on the phone with someone in the passenger seat and had Rikei be the driver. Whether or not the latter was a wise decision was evidently debatable, but Allen supposed that the latter ought to be a better driver than a Bak distracted by a phone call or a Rohfa who appeared awkward and blushing in general at the prolonged proximity that had resulted from their seating arrangement.

All in all, Allen wondered whether or not it was too late to ask to switch with Shifu, even if it did mean being forced to spend time alone with Bak's overly protective and thoroughly disapproving makeshift parent. Then again…

He took a deep breath and released it slowly, tilting his head slightly so that he could observe the landscapes passing by with a greater amount of ease. He lost interest fairly quickly though, and instead shifted his attention towards the quiet yet animated conversation that Bak seemed to have going on with someone on the phone.

Once he had shifted his focus, it took merely seconds for him to listen for and to determine the identity of the person who was on the other end right before Bak ended the call and sunk back into his seat with an exasperated sigh. "Honestly…"

Allen rested his eyes upon the back of the other's head before once again shifting his seeming attention out towards the road and at the cars passing them by in the opposite direction whilst listening to Bak making another call, seemingly making or changing arrangements.

Truth to be told, Allen wasn't all that interested, or at least not beyond the fact that the other had just been on the phone with an old teacher of his – and presumably also a member of the Order, considering the fact that his old school had practically been crawling with them. Then again, the latter wasn't all that strange, all things considered, seeing that the school had been _founded_ by the Order to begin with.

Still, whether or not Bak would see it fit to inform him of whichever crisis had the Order personnel making extended calls overseas instead of just composing emails or instant messages like normal people did whenever they didn't engage in video calls had yet to be seen.

Then again, it wasn't as though he was in any particular kind of hurry to find out now, was he? Besides, if the aforementioned crisis had nothing to do with him and wouldn't affect him either in the least or merely insignificantly, then he didn't really see the point to delve into details. Then again…

Finally, Bak ended his most recent call and turned to Rikei, who stiffened slightly in response. "There's a shopping mall up ahead. We need to stock up on a few things."

Shopping mall?

Allen suppressed a visible shudder, but still earned fleeting looks from practically all of the car's occupants, ranging from honest concern to smugness, as was the case with Rikei who had swiftly relaxed back into his seat and turned on his indicator to turn right at an upcoming intersection. "Still mall-oh-phobic, are you, Allen?" the latter asked.

Allen – knowing an attempt to rile him up when seeing one – flat-out ignored him and continued staring out the window with seeming disinterest, even as they took another turn and drove into a vast parking lot and began cruising through it, looking for places to park.

"I'm staying in the car," he quietly informed them, directing himself primarily to Bak as the car finally came to a stop.

The latter undid their seatbelt before turning around to level him with a serious look. "Are you sure?"

Allen leant further back into his seat, giving the mall – towering over them even though it was all the way across from the part of the parking lot where they stood – a momentary glance before shifting his attention right back to Bak, who still awaited his response. "Dead certain," he finally deadpanned, folding his arms across his chest.

**- o0o -**

To his chagrin, Rohfa also decided to volunteer to remain in the car, as she despite her initial shyness and general awkwardness took the courage to remain in the car alone with her newfound crush.

Allen himself once again thanked the partial wall of equipment standing in the way of even bolder moves from the aforementioned whilst he fished out his phone, noting with a frown that the battery on it had finally died.

Truth to be told, the latter was by no means surprising; he had seen it coming for days now, but had even so not bothered doing much to prevent it, even though his charger had previously suffered the brunt of one of his psychokinetic outbursts, one which his phone had managed to survive, strangely enough.

In either case, the instance of being in possession of a dead phone suited him just as well as the instance of being in possession of one with charged batteries, since he hardly had much use of the thing anyway other than for checking the time and the date, either of which proved largely irrelevant to him at the moment.

Truth to be told, his phone had largely served as a distraction, and fiddling with it generally worked as a way to deter others from staging or from continuing any type of interaction that demanded more than short responses and little elaboration. Thus, dead or not, he still held it in his hands and focused upon it as though he had actually been staring at something other than a blank screen; with the angle and the pieces of equipment blocking the view, it wasn't as though she would be able to tell from all the way over there anyway, making it largely his own decision whether or not to retain the pretence during the minutes that followed and that were spent largely in silence until the girl finally gathered the courage to address him, trying to keep from stammering whilst doing so.

"Allen…?"

He resisted a sudden urge to roll his eyes, keeping his eyes fixed on the display. "Yeah?"

From the way that she startled momentarily, one nearly found it reasonable to assume that she hadn't been expecting him to offer up an immediate response, or any response whatsoever. Though pleased on some level at having thrown her off her game, Allen quietly questioned the wisdom of having done just that.

"So, ehm…" Rohfa began anew, fidgeting slightly. "About Pennhurst…"

He said nothing, continuing to stare down at his empty phone display.

"I mean… I just wanted to say that…"

"What I meant is… we got some really good footage this time around and-…"

He tore his eyes from the phone and lazily surveyed their surroundings instead, taking in the numerous cars either parked or looking for parking spaces all around them and at the people moving to and from the aforementioned cars, some carrying heavier loads than others.

Absentmindedly, he found himself wondering about how many of the people present – if any – were currently armed, and how many of those either suffered from or suffered the risk of developing some type of mental illness during the course of their lives.

Admittedly, it was only an idle thought on his part, and in terms of statistics, he thought of himself as largely oblivious, seeing that the aforementioned areas of interest hadn't quite held all that much relevance to him previously, even though it was already a fact to him that the living were often just as dangerous – or even more dangerous – than the deceased, even though exceptions naturally existed off in either direction. Then again…

"Allen?"

She had leaned forward in interest and perhaps even in concern, and he felt oddly tempted to snap at her, but resisted the notion as he did not quite fancy the thought of being chewed out once the others returned if they did find themselves returning to a crying Rohfa. Then again, the latter was definitely asking for it, however unwittingly…

With an exasperated sigh, he let his head fall to rest against the backseat as he continued looking out the car window. "What is it that you really want to ask?"

She opened her mouth, snapped it back shut and then repeated the motion a couple of times before finally snapping it shut whilst averting her eyes and face, face reddening from the looks of it.

Then, blissful silence. Finally.

Then, inevitably…

"Have you got anyone… special waiting for you back in England?"

He actually shot her a brief glance before once again directing his eyes out the window nearest to him. "How so?"

Again, there was fidgeting. "Just curious."

It really wasn't any of her business, but he decided to humour her anyway, seeing that dashing her hopes and expectations now were better than letting the crush that she seemed to be harbouring develop any further than it already had, because even if she didn't come across as a potential psycho or anything, the potential for clinginess certainly did seem to be present.

"I'm _sixteen_," he offered her with a slight shrug. "And unavailable."

"Oh." She smiled, somewhat weakly and somewhat sheepishly all the same, her blush still apparent but by no means as pronounced as it had been just a few minutes prior. "Girlfriend?"

Girlfriend? Hah. That actually brought a slight smile to his face, however wry.

"It's a tiny bit complicated," he finally admitted, even though he hardly needed to explain himself, and least of all to someone like her. "But we're promised to one another."

Kind of. Sort of. Maybe. Possibly. Definitely. In a manner of speaking. As a matter of fact.

He actually reached up to his face, simply to make sure that he hadn't also taken to the habit of blushing like some regular love-struck teenager. Really, the shame of it; he doubted he would have been able to live it down, should anyone call him out on it.

"So…" Rohfa looked more interested now and less embarrassed. "How did the two of you meet?"

Oh yes, how had the two of them met now again? Oh yes, the stalker thing, wasn't it?

"Well…" He weighed his words very carefully. "He moved in next door, so I suppose we were bound to meet eventually."

"He?"

Oh. _Right._

Allen shot her a look. There was little judgement in her voice or general demeanour; there was only surprise followed by a somewhat embarrassed smile and she began to fidget slightly again, only just somewhat differently from before.

"Was it love at first sight?"

Love at first sight? Preposterous.

"Hardly," he went on to admit, not quite certain as to why he was making her privy to this information but deciding to share it nonetheless, to some extent. "We did end up negotiating a temporary truce over a pizza, but it was hardly love at first sight for either of us…"

"Then how did you know that he was the one for you?"

"How?" he repeated, looking out the car window yet again. "How did I know what?"

"How did you know that he was special and the one for you?" she clarified, obviously getting bolder each time that she spoke. "When did you realise your feelings for him?"

Truth to be told, Allen honestly couldn't believe that he was actually discussing this, and with her of all people. Then again, perhaps it was because he had somehow deemed her reasonably harmless. Or something. Or maybe he just needed someone else to talk to for once, which was a pathetic realisation to say the very least. Gosh, he nearly found himself wondering what would be next; a therapist perhaps? Or perhaps a psychologist?

"He decided long before I did." He stared back at the empty display of his phone. "I knew for certain from the moment that he chose me over the duty to his own family."

"So, they didn't approve then? Of your relationship, I mean."

Allen shot her a look. "Approve? They practically-…"

His phone – previously stone dead – lit up and vibrated, signalling an incoming call. He nearly dropped it right then and there, but somehow managed to retain his calm and grasped it, unable to keep a slight tremor from showing in his movements.

On its display was the message informing him that there was a call from a withheld number, but his thumb moved faster than his thought and thus took the call, and it was only in the moment that followed that he realised just what he had done.

For a brief moment, he considered ending the call right then and there, but steeled himself instead and instead lifted the phone and pressed it against his ear, completely disregarding all that lay around him.

"_Good afternoon."_

He tensed briefly at the wording, before relaxing as the voice uttering them registered in his brain, something akin to exhilaration gradually building within him. Still, knowing better than to be fooled by first impressions, he kept his building emotions under control. He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose instead; a sign of exasperation, seeing that he was still not entire sure as to how to treat the unfolding situation at hand. "This better not be a prank call."

**- o0o -**


End file.
